“You didn’t consider IVF?” That was the reaction I received when I shared with someone that my son was adopted from Ethiopia. My response? Nope, I didn’t. I didn’t explore any options. After three traumatic miscarriages, I wasn’t sure what else I could try.
My doctor—let’s just say he wasn’t the most empathetic—sent me to a Women’s Reproductive Clinic for extensive testing and various options. Sitting there with his hands neatly folded, he shook his head and quietly stated, “I don’t doubt you’ll get pregnant. You just may need some assistance.”
“I don’t doubt you’ll get pregnant…” Mike and I decided at 27 that we were ready for kids. I walked into that same not-so-great doctor’s office and asked, “What do I need to do to get pregnant?” “Have a lot of sex,” he replied. It seemed simple enough; after all, I had watched countless friends and family members conceive. But there I was, three miscarriages later, after months of peeing on sticks, sitting in labs, enduring two D&Cs, and shedding countless tears.
Perhaps I didn’t want to get pregnant anymore.
When I finally called to follow up on the referral, I received a massive packet to fill out—medical history for both Mike and me, testing options, and more. It felt overwhelming. The packet sat on our coffee table for months, filled with images of smiling moms cradling babies, which only added to my despair. “Should we finish this?” I’d ask Mike periodically. “Not now…maybe later,” he’d reply, returning to his Wall Street Journal without a glance up. “Okay, I don’t feel like it either,” I’d admit.
Then one day, I asked, “Are we actually going to do this? Get the tests and start this whole process?” That sparked a long-overdue conversation. We both felt we had faced enough. Moving forward could mean a baby, but it might also lead to stress, toll on my body, and perhaps the realization that one of us had a fertility issue. By stepping back, we avoided labeling anyone as “the problem” and lifted the dark cloud hanging over us. I tossed the packet in the trash and slept better than I had in months. Mike looked like a new man.
“So, we’ll just explore adoption then?” I suggested. “Sounds good,” he replied. For a man of few words, that was basically his way of saying, “Absolutely! I’m excited about this plan!”
We had always talked about adoption, both feeling it was something we wanted. I remember being 18, just starting to date, when I asked him, “How do you feel about adopting? I’d like to adopt.” “Sounds good,” he said. I swear I knew even back then that I had found the right guy.
When the adoption agency’s packet arrived, we filled it out immediately. We signed up for an info session, explored countries, and ordered books. I was on a mission, and instead of feeling anxious, I felt a sense of excitement and calm. I knew this was the right decision for us.
The wait was excruciating! I was impatient and a bit frantic, but not overly stressed. The moment we saw EJ’s picture for the first time, everything changed. All the trying, the miscarriages, and anxiety melted away. For the first time, I felt grateful for that difficult period. Without it, we wouldn’t have been looking at a photo of the most adorable baby imaginable. Our baby.
It’s entirely possible we could have had a biological child. We both recognized that. My new OBGYN even mentioned that it might not take IVF. About a year after EJ came home, we began discussing plans for more children. I felt a twinge of guilt for not only wanting one child but also for not wanting to pursue a biological child at all. Mike simply said, “One and done!” and now that’s our motto.
I have immense respect for women who navigate fertility treatments; it takes incredible strength and resilience. I know I wouldn’t have been able to endure it. It’s crucial to remember that every woman’s journey to motherhood is unique. Not everyone follows the same path. Some of us take a different route—not a better one, just a different one. And every day, I am thankful that my journey took a turn.
This article was originally published on July 26, 2010.
In summary, the journey to motherhood is a deeply personal experience that varies from person to person. Whether through adoption or other means, the most important thing is finding a path that feels right for you. If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, check out resources like this one for supportive information. For couples looking into fertility journeys, Make a Mom offers valuable insights, and if you have questions about fertility insurance, this resource can help clarify your options.